


"You're a Terrible Cook."

by The_Defeaning_Sound_of_Silence



Category: IT - Stephen King
Genre: Eddie doesn't know how to bake but he tries, I know this is hella short, M/M, They have a dog named Cujo please enjoy my reference, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, Tumblr Prompt, sorry - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-28
Updated: 2018-01-28
Packaged: 2019-03-10 09:30:00
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 714
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13499212
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/The_Defeaning_Sound_of_Silence/pseuds/The_Defeaning_Sound_of_Silence
Summary: Eddie tries, he really tries. But he has no idea how to cook.





	"You're a Terrible Cook."

**Author's Note:**

> enjoy this pile of shit bye.

Eddie stared at the ingredients in front of him, studying the back of the cookie mix box questioningly, and listing off what he'd bought from the top of his head.

_ Two cups of flour. _ Check.

_ One cup of milk.  _ Check.

_ Two eggs.  _ Check.

_ Three tablespoons of peanut butter.  _ Check.

_ Half a stick of actual butter.  _ Check.

_ Three cups of chocolate chips. _ Check.

 He decided that if they were going to be done by the time Bill was home from the library, he'd have to put them in the oven at that moment. Most of the batter looked like goop, but he piled the goop onto a cookie tray and slid on an oven mitt, wincing at the unexpected heat that hit him as he opened the oven itself. It was like a menacing fire demon, begging him to stick his hand in and get burned.

 He sighed heavily, pressing his lips together and running the hand that wasn’t covered by fabric through his hair. If he got burnt, it would be the least of his problems, he finally resolved.

 So he quickly shoved the tray in and shut it, before he set the oven on 350° Fahrenheit, as the directions had said. It seemed a little much, Eddie thought absently, but soon enough his attention was taken by he and Bill’s dog, Cujo.

 Cujo was a Saint Bernard-- very sweet and cuddly, despite the name-- who shed just a little too much for Eddie’s taste, but he caused Georgie to want to come over on weekends, so he supposed it wasn’t as bad. Cujo had one of Bill’s work shoes in his mouth, chewing carelessly until Eddie stared him down and he noticed.

 “Now what did we say about shoes?” Cujo gave a guilty whimper, “That’s right. They’re not toys. You want something to chew on? Huh?” Eddie began in a light and breathy tone, picking up a little carrot-shaped squeaky toy that he loved dearly.

 “Come get your carrot! Come on, Cuj. Come get carrot!” It caused the dog to run across the room and all but attack Eddie, who was sitting on the floor and laughing as the dog shook his head against Eddie’s chest, carrot clenched between his teeth.

 A long while after, as Eddie played with Cujo and listened to the Spotify playlist which Bill had made for him, he’d almost completely forgotten about the cookies. That was, until his oven burst into flames.

 He’d thought he’d smelled burning before, but was too distracted to tell. And then his oven had completely gone up in flames, causing a panicked Eddie to grab at the fire extinguisher and try to aim it at the flames. He heard yelling from a voice that wasn’t his, and dropped the extinguisher warily.

 All the flames were out, but covered in white, puffy-looking fire extinguisher chemicals, was none other than his boyfriend, Bill Denbrough. Bill’s eyes were wide as Eddie glumly stared at the last of his charred cookies and took them out of the oven with a sad smile.

 “Eddie… what were you trying to d- do?” Bill questioned cautiously, obviously off-put by the smell of smoke and burned food.

 “Oh my god, Bill. I was trying to bake you cookies, because I- I heard you were getting a promotion, and I wanted to do something nice, but-” Eddie gestured to the meager portion of goop which had only charred more. “It didn’t work.”

 “Eddie,” Bill laughed, taking the smaller man’s face in his hands and thusly smearing chemicals between their faces, “You could have just buh- been there for me. You know I love cuddles more than cookies-- th- though well-made cookies are pretty good,  **you’re a terrible cook.** ” Bill laughed, a hearty sound that almost immediately lifted Eddie’s spirits. Cujo came between them just as they were leaning in to kiss each other. Bill let out a surprised sound, but Eddie just laughed again.

 “Blame Cuj. He distracted me, how am I supposed to resist that face!” Eddie pointed down at Cujo’s puppy eyes.

 “Okay, okay. Let’s just get this cleaned up. And I do still want those cuddles, just so you know.” Bill winked, and Eddie smiled. He may have been bad at cooking, but he knew Bill loved him anyways.


End file.
